


The Aston Martin Team

by mr_quartermaster



Category: James Bond (Classic movies), James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Alec is not a nice guy, Angst, F1 AU, F1 Driver!Alec, F1 Driver!James, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Minor Character Death, Race Director!M, Race Engineer!Q, Recovery, Reporter!Moneypenny, Reporter!Tanner, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25199176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_quartermaster/pseuds/mr_quartermaster
Summary: James Bond is a famous Formula 1 driver who has it all. Money, luxuries, love, everything he can possibly desire. He has dedicated his life to the sport, his teammate... not so much. When Alec seizes the opportunity to come in first place for once, chaos ensues in the Aston Martin team and James's perfect little world will fall apart.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16
Collections: 007 Fest Fancreations





	1. Undercut

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! It's AU Day! And we are starting yet another new fic! This time it's a Formula 1 AU. Beware, while I have chosen not to use Archive Warnings, I will tag anything that may appear in the fic. The tags may change so you should check them out regularly if you wish to avoid certain topics. Anyway, enjoy! Don't forget to comment and leave kudos!

* * *

Rain poured from the grey sky, making the track slippery and worsening the conditions for pilots that remained on the track. For the past hour it had been bucketing down on the iconic circuit of Silverstone, the host of every year’s British Grand Prix. It was also the base of the Aston Martin team and on that day, their most important race, their home race.

The Aston Martin team, owned by Gareth Mallory and led by their race director Olivia Mansfield, was having their best season in years. They were top in the World’s Constructors Championship and James Bond, their first driver was currently holding the first place by far in the Drivers Championship, a miracle would be required for him not to win at the end of the season. His teammate, Alec Trevelyan wasn’t far behind, occupying the second place.

The two had been racing together their entire lives, having started with karting when they were just kids and slowly gaining sponsors. Alec had always relied on said sponsors, British sponsors at that. He had arrived in England from Russia when he was very young, being an orphan with incredible abilities behind the wheel. Almost an equal to Bond. Almost. James had always been faster while Alec had always been more interested in the parties they were invited to and the adventure that fame had proven to be so far.

The Russian driver always arrived at the team briefings late, hungover, with a lit cigarette hanging between his lips and his arm around a random girl’s waist, while James was always up early to walk the track and make sure he knew every sector, every chicane and every corner of it before even attempting to do a reconnaissance lap on the car.

Their work ethics were clearly different and they often argued about it, but when it came to racing, the two were like superstars. There wasn’t a race in which they didn’t share the podium, always placing 1-2 and spraying champagne joyfully on one another after a victory.

However, Alec had never been good when it came to obeying authorities or listening to indications and behind their friendly competition lied something darker, much more dangerous.

They found themselves fifty laps into the race’s fifty two laps, the russian driver holding the first position with his dashing british teammate less than a second behind him. Everything was going according to plan. James had just pitted in to get new tires for the final stint of the race in hopes of making the race’s fast lap as well as winning and had come out right behind Alec, who was supposed to keep his place for a lap or two just to let him pass him in the end.

But once Trevelyan got a hold of the first place, getting him to let go of it wouldn’t be so easy. It was rare for him to be ahead of Bond, always being ordered to stay behind him and block other drivers while James gained seconds upon seconds on him. This was his first chance in a long time to finally get his first place and have Bond finish second for once, but if he was going to do it, he couldn’t let him pass him.

  
  


“Alec?” A female voice called through the comms.

It was Rimsha, or how her friends and colleagues called her, R. The young woman was Alec’s race engineer, the only person who was actually allowed to talk to him throughout the race and give him indications. She sat at the Pit wall, behind monitors and monitors filled with information about the cars and the race. By her right side sat James’s own race engineer, a young man who coincidentally everyone called Q (if asked, she’d say it was because they had simply forgotten what his name actually was). On her left side sat Mansfield, watching the footage on the monitors sternly and shaking her head.

“What is he doing?” Mansfield huffed. “Tell him to quit fucking around and let Bond through.”

R nodded quickly and pressed the comms button labeled ‘Alec’ before speaking.

“Trevelyan, she’s growing really tired of your games. Let James past you. I repeat, let James past you.”

“Did you say something? I can’t really hear you well.” Alec replied, despite the fact that he heard her loud and clear. A smirk tugged at his lips and his foot sank on the gas pedal as he hit the apex of a corner and went out towards a long straight.

_ Two more laps to go. _

With such dangerous conditions ontrack almost half of the drivers had either retired voluntarily or had had to be retired from the gravel traps and the mud by the track marshals. The few that were left in the race were almost two laps behind the two Aston Martins who were now battling each other for the victory under the hard rain.

“Q… What the hell is going on?” James snapped, nearly rupturing the poor man’s eardrum. “He’s not slowing down, how the hell am I supposed to pass him in less than two laps with no DRS ?”

Q grumbled quietly and took the headset off for a moment, shaking his head as he tried to get rid of the ringing in his poor ears.

“We’re figuring that out, alright? In the meantime, just put your back into it and try to catch up.” He finally replied when he put the headset back on and he pressed the button to speak to James. He was trying to remain as calm as possible even though he had Mansfield’s eyes on him.

“Why don’t you come over here and put your back into it?” James scoffed his response, making Q smirk softly.

Underneath his shiny black helmet James smirked too, it was small, but at three hundred kilometres per hour, he couldn’t afford to get too distracted lest he wished to risk driving into a wall.

It was that kind of sassy conversation that made him like his young engineer so much. When Q had first arrived at the team, James had questioned his abilities and even ignored every piece of advice he had received from the raven-haired man, but after months of dreading Azerbaijan’s Grand Prix, he finally decided he had nothing to lose–aside from millions upon millions in car pieces–and finally listened to Q’s advise.

Much to his surprise, Q’s advice led him to win that GP and many others after that since James started to actually listen to him and follow his indications. And in return, Q took over R&D every now and then to make some improvements that he thought necessary.

The two spent a lot of time together tracing tracks in James’s motorhome during race weekends and after that, they often had dinner together and Q tried to get James to relax and think about other things. As all things do, it started out innocently, but soon enough, the engineer fell for the charming blue-eyed driver that annoyed him so much. Before taking any steps further, he tried to make sure that he wouldn’t get in the way of James’s career, but the driver didn’t seem to care much as he dragged him into his world of luxuries.

They kept their relationship a secret. It was a mutual agreement. James didn’t like to do press and Q didn’t want to end up all over it. Neither of them wanted Mansfield or Mallory to find out and they knew that if they did it would be the end of their careers, so for both their sakes, it was kept a secret. To the world, they were friends and only that.

“Alec, for god’s sake! We have a plan! You’ll get your chance, but this is James’s win.” R hissed into the microphone, watching as the Russian completed yet another lap with the other Aston Martin closely behind him.

_ One more lap to go. _

“Sorry, R. There’s a lot of interference. I can’t really hear you.” Alec insisted, glancing back through his side mirror just to see James on his left with the intention of overtaking him on the next corner. He was not going to let that happen.

Alec shifted up to eighth gear, the engine roaring loudly as the car’s speed rose. It was like the man didn’t know what a brake was.

“What a bloody idiot! He’s going to max out.” Mansfield huffed, getting up off her seat and walking towards the pit wall to watch the race with her own eyes. It was nearly over, but not for the Aston Martin team.

Q glanced at her before he looked at his screen again to see James and Alec fighting for the first place. Their speeds were incredibly high for just how slippery the track was, even with wet tyres, it was ridiculous. 

In the end, they were a team , it didn’t really matter who won, but he knew that at that point it was a matter of honour, James’s honour. Alec was trying to take that victory away from him when he had worked towards it the entire race and had driven so well. He deserved it.

“He’s not giving in, James.” Q finally told him, having decided that he would have to take a side in all that. “Just keep pushing him as much as you can, he’s bound to make a mistake, then you’ll overtake him.”

His advice seemed to work, for only a few seconds later, Alec seemed to lose his grip and started to lose control of the car. He immediately tried to regain it, but in doing so, he hit James and sent him flying off the track.

Again and again and again, James’s car rolled until it came to a stop against the fence, propped up against it and upside down. There was smoke and debris all over the place, they had no idea where it all even came from, but what worried Q the most was the alert that showed up immediately in their monitors.

**_FUEL LEAK_ **

“James? Can you hear me?” He asked, looking at the monitors and then up over them where he could see the smoke column rising.

He got no response.

“Bond! This isn’t funny! Are you alright?”

And again, nothing.

“Oh god… if you can hear me, stay where you are, don’t move, they’re going to get you.”

With his heart in his stomach, Q rose from his chair, lowering his headset to his neck and ran to the fence separating the pits from the track. He couldn’t really see James from there, so without even thinking twice about it, he began climbing it, higher and higher until he could spot the site of the accident.

With the car leaking fuel, James was at risk of catching on fire while he was still in there and while he did wear all protective gear, nothing was certain.

He could see ambulances rushing towards the scene, even though the marshals were already working to get the unconscious man out of the wrecked car, which did catch on fire just a few seconds after they got James out. He could see how the marshals fought the blaze that consumed the car entirely in a matter of seconds and he couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened to James if they hadn’t gotten him out on time. Something else caught his attention though, and it was their other car, which had apparently left the scene undamaged but was actually starting to smoke and leak… something. He wasn’t sure what exactly and that worried him.

Mansfield seemed to have spotted the same and she was already at R’s side.

“Tell him to stop the car right now.” She said.

“I already did, ma’am.” R replied, wincing.

Mansfield cursed under her breath and took the headset from the young engineer to talk to Alec herself. Except Alec seemed to have disconnected his comms to avoid having to hear them until the end of the race. He was completely unaware that the gas tank of his car had just caught on fire, right behind his head. Quickly the flames grew util the blaze embraced the driver in the car and swallowed him whole, just as he crossed the finishing line.

* * *

“This is a disaster!” Mansfield huffed, watching from afar as Alec argued with a paramedic in the back of an ambulance. 

“Well, at least he won the race…” R murmured, trying to make things better. It was only her there now that Q had left to go to the hospital with James, whose current situation, as of that moment, was uncertain.

“Yes, and he nearly burned himself alive!” The old woman snapped again, making the young engineer look at Alec again. The paramedic had managed to clean the wounds on his face and cover them with gauzes, but kept insisting that the russian driver should go to a hospital. Alec, on the other side, kept insisting that he was fine and that he should be celebrating his petty victory.

“Do we know anything about James?” R asked softly, looking at their race director again. Mansfield sighed and shook her head.

“No, not yet.”

The two nodded lightly as Alec approached them, a wide grin on his face. It was like he was completely unaware of what had just happened to his teammate.

“Why the long faces? We won! We should be celebrating!” He chuckled, but all he received was a glare from Mansfield and R’s profile, seeing as she looked away.”What? Are you worried about James? Oh, he’ll be fine! He’s had worse.” He scoffed.

Mansfield looked like she was about ready to murder him. “You’re lucky to be alive after that stunt of yours! You’re lucky you only got a penalty, I would’ve revoked your licence!” She had tried to control herself so far, but that was it, she was yelling at him.

Alec looked at them for a moment before storming off and heading to the podium ceremony. He just wanted his stupid trophy and to go have a drink after all that. A drink or two. Maybe more. Maybe some company. 

He wanted to celebrate his victory and no accident, no grumpy old lady or engineer was going to stop him.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary:
> 
> DRS: Short for Drag Reduction System  
> Adjustable rear wings that allow the driver to activate from the cockpit when in a per-determined area, known as the DRS Activation Zone. When combined with other systems in the car, boosts overtaking.
> 
> R&D: Short for Research and Development  
> Activities taken by the team to develop or improve a system or component.


	2. And It Crumbles...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They were far behind the rest in terms of tests and development. They weren’t ready for the next season and he could only pray that Alec had been doing his job properly for the past few months..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I know it's been a while since I updated this pic but I hope you enjoy this chapter. It might be some time until I update again since I will be a bit busy in the upcoming months. I'll do my best though. Let me know what you enjoy the most about this story and leave some kudos! See you soon!

* * *

As he started to slowly wake up, James heard the faint beeping of a monitor by his side and the oxygen bubbling behind him. Aside from those, there weren’t many other sounds in the hospital room.

The blond tried to reach up and rub his face with his right hand, but as soon as he tried moving a single muscle, pain shot up his arm, making him groan and freeze immediately.

“James? Are you awake?” Q’s sleepy voice greeted him, encouraging him to open his eyes and look up at him.

He had never seen the bespectacled young man as worried as he seemed to be in that moment, it almost made him feel guilty and he didn’t even know why. As he nodded slowly, James averted his gaze and looked down to find that his arm was in a sling, completely immobilized and strapped tightly to his chest. Every breath he took hurt, making him wonder if he had broken any ribs and had yet to find out.

“James?” Q called his name again, trying to get the man to look at him. However, James just nodded, closing his eyes again. “Do you want me to call a nurse?”

The blond shook his head, wanting to avoid having to talk to anyone else, at least for a few minutes or until he could find his bearings. Again he tried to move, this time to roll onto his side, but his left hip protested and his leg reminded him in a very painful way to stay still.

“Will you please stop it? You shouldn’t be moving around so much. The doctor said–”

Q couldn’t even finish that sentence, the driver’s icy blue eyes met his own as he reached to grip his hand with his free one. “–Q.”

“Yes?” He could feel his throat dry up with the look he received from his lover, so intense it could've melted him down on the spot, or rather frozen him up.

“I… I need to ask you a question.”

“Of course. Anything.”

The young man was about to fall off his seat with just how close to the edge he was, gripping James’s hand with both his own. The suspense was killing him.

“Did I win the race?”

_ Seriously? Seriously, Bond?! _

“Bugger off…”

Q got up from his chair and let go of his hand before he stormed out of the room, cursing under his breath.

“Q! Wait! Did I?”

On his way out of the hospital, the engineer nearly ran into Alec, who was –much to his surprise– on his way in, wearing his favourite pair of black Ray-Bans to hide his emerald green eyes from the bright daylight and holding on tightly to a bottle of Pedialyte.

“Q!” The Russian driver grinned widely and greeted him with open arms, as if the incident from the previous day had never even happened and half his face wasn’t burned and bandaged. The young man shoved his hands into his pockets and cocked his head to the side, glaring at him. “Right…” The blond nodded and glanced towards the elevators, wishing he could just make a quick escape.

“Where’s James? I heard he wasn’t out yet so I thought I might as well drop in and–”

“–He’s in ICU, Alec. He just woke up.” Q nearly snapped, amazed by the man’s carelessness. James was his partner, they were supposed to look after each other and Alec had just decided to go and celebrate his victory while James was at the hospital, even though he had been the one to cause the crash in the first place.

“Got it. Going out for a smoke?” He asked as he started walking away, completely oblivious to the boffin’s wrath. “Save me one, alright?”

With a soft chuckle, Alec turned around and made for the ICU, following the signs around the hospital to get there. With all the stops he made to sign autographs, take pictures and flirt with the several nurses and doctors that he ran into, it took him a while to get to James’ room. When he finally did though, he opened the door slowly, without even bothering to knock. He stepped in and grimaced when he saw his teammate in bed, surrounded by noisy machines and covered in braces and bruises.

“Shit... You really did hit that wall hard, didn’t you? What was it? Around forty? Fifty Gs? Maybe even more… Holy shit! But hey, we won. Can you believe that? We won! Well, more like  _ I won _ , but you should’ve seen R’s face when we were up on that podium! She couldn’t believe it!”

It was like he couldn’t get enough of himself, he just loved the sound of his own voice so much that he couldn’t even notice how James was seething. He moved across the room, taking a sip of Pedialyte when his mouth started growing dry, only to continue talking and praising himself.

“You should’ve been there, the party was wild–”

He was about to take a seat on James’s bed when his racing partner finally exploded after gripping the bed sheets so tightly his knuckles had turned white and his entire hand had gone numb.

“Get. Out.” James hissed.

Alec stared at him in disbelief, his eyes wide for a moment or two before he regained his composure and slowly started to straighten up. “James…”

“I said get out!”

The Russian’s gaze hardened as he nodded slowly, finally turning around and silently walking out of the room with his head high. He stopped as he was crossing the threshold and glanced back at the British pilot.

“Remember this moment, James. Just… remember it.”

“Fuck off, Alec.”

* * *

_ “The devastating news of the passing of Aston Martin’s Race director Olivia Mansfield come only two months after the terrible crash that nearly took the life of their British driver, James Bond. The team sure isn’t having a good year, Tanner.” _

_ “They did manage to get away with that win in the Drivers Championship. Trevelyan’s first one ever, Eve. I think we should give them that.” _

_ “A win that he stole from his own teammate and which cost them the entire World Constructors Championship, Bill. I’m not so sure about that.” _

_ “Ruthless as always, Moneypenny.” _

He couldn’t take another word they were saying. James picked up the remote and turned off the enormous television in his living room before picking up the crutch resting against the couch and using it to support himself while he got up.

A car waited for him outside to take him to the funeral and he was still struggling with his tie. Tying one without using a hand was much harder than one expected, but he had refused any help he had been offered as soon as had been discharged from the hospital. The only one whose help he would've accepted was Q and after that day at the hospital, he had simply vanished.

He finally huffed and threw the tie against the wall, walking slowly out of the impeccable manor in the English countryside before getting into the grey Aston Martin waiting for him with some difficulty. He usually liked to drive himself everywhere, but after almost five  surgeries, his leg hardly had the strength necessary for him to be driving around. Having a chauffeur was far from his favourite thing, but what he could barely stand anymore, was having to struggle to fit the crutch into the car every single time he got in it.

James sighed, rolling down the window before he reached into his inner breast pocket and pulled out a silver case filled with Sterling cigarettes along with an old metal lighter. Carefully, he pulled a cigarette out and taped it against his thigh before bringing it up to his lips and holding it there while he lit it. He put away the cigarette case, but kept the lighter out and toyed with it throughout the entire ride, watching the flame and passing his fingers close to it.

Olivia Mansfield’s passing had been entirely unexpected for everyone that surrounded her. The woman had always seemed to have all her strength and be in perfect condition despite her age, but James supposed that all the stress from the past months had taken its toll on her. Now, the team had no principal and they were far behind the rest in terms of tests and development. They weren’t ready for the next season and he could only pray that Alec had been doing his job properly for the past few months.

Upon arriving at the cemetery, he struggled to get out of the car, insisting on doing it on his own and refusing to take the help he was offered. Thankfully, they had managed to keep the funeral’s location a secret or he would’ve been surrounded by cameras the minute he stepped out of the car. The blond walked slowly on the uneven terrain, taking care not to hurt himself more, the last thing he needed was another injury.

There were a few other people gathered by the coffin already, all dressed in black and looking expectantly at James, who had finally and reluctantly emerged from his hideout for the occasion. Amongst them was a certain raven-haired engineer who was purposely looking the other way and avoiding James’ gaze. Throughout the entire service, Q’s eyes remained on the damp ground, and when it was over and everyone had approached James to give him their condolences, he simply glanced at the pilot before turning around to walk away.

James actually couldn’t believe it. After all the nights they had spent in each other’s arms, all the places they had been together and the things they had lived through. Q was just going to pretend he didn’t even exist?

He wasn’t willing to let that happen.

“Q!”

He called as he started chasing after him, ignoring the rest of the people that wanted to talk to him and offer their sympathy.

“Q!” He tried calling his name again, but the young man was simply pretending not to hear him while he screamed his name in the middle of the graveyard, where raindrops were slowly starting to fall from the sky.

The muddy terrain made it increasingly difficult to walk for James with the crutch and the brace on his arm. He tried to catch up with the bespectacled man, but he nearly slipped and simply stopped, breathing hard from the effort.

“Goddammit, Q! I’m talking to you!” He yelled, finally getting him to stop, but not to face him. “What the hell is wrong with you? Where have you been?”

Nothing.

“You think you can just show up today and act like nothing ever–”

“–Stop! Just… stop.” Finally, some words left Q’s mouth. But rather than sounding angry, he sounded discouraged. 

Slowly, he turned around to face the race driver and swallowed hard, pushing some strands of damp hair away from his muddy green eyes and taking off his fogged glasses.

James watched him, paying as much attention to the man before him as he did when he watched a race on television. Even if the only thing Q was doing was rubbing his eyes.

“I can’t. I can’t do this. Us. I can’t. I’m sorry.” The engineer murmured, shaking his head defeatedly while he felt hot tears forming in his eyes. Thank god the rain helped conceal them, otherwise Bond would’ve noticed them.

“What?” James felt like he was back in the car once again, going at 320 kilometres per hour, but feeling like the entire world slowed down around him. Thoughts came and went as quickly as lightning, but he felt like he could barely blink, stuck in time, in that awful moment in which Q decided to put an end to everything that existed between them with those simple words. Worst of all, he couldn’t even say anything. The only word that left his mouth was choked up and mumbled to the point it was almost impossible to distinguish it from a groan.

“I really am.”

The raven-haired man turned around to continue walking, letting out a heavy sigh and leaving James standing there in the middle of the graveyard.

He watched him walk, watched him walk until he lost sight of him and finally he turned back around. He walked through the mud, gripping the crutch so tightly his knuckles went white under the incessant dripping of the cold rain. He ignored all the people flocking around him and got inside his car, tossing the crutch out the door when it failed to fit inside on the first try.

James could feel a blinding anger bubbling up inside of him, derived from the sadness that he was just suppressing and trying his best not to feel. He needed to drown both feelings in one go or he knew that they would drown him instead.

* * *

“Where the fuck is he? He should’ve been here two hours ago.”

He was met with guilty looks and silence that made him want to punch a hole through the garage wall. They had already missed the first half of the tests season and they hadn’t even had the time or the budget to create a new car nor make any updates to the one from last year. They were behind on every sense of the word and to make things worse, Alec was running late, as usual.

James had spent an hour pacing the garage like a caged lion, fidgeting with his racing suit and stretching his arms, legs, neck, just about anything he could possibly think of and he was running out of ideas. Now that he had fully recovered, he was anxious to get back in the car and on the track. He wanted to race and feel the effects of the speed on his body once again. He craved it, needed it like an addict that needed his fix.

He had started to anxiously pick at the visor of his helmet when Gareth Mallory finally arrived, holding a folder filled with papers that nearly spilled out of it.

“Bond.” He greeted the pilot almost dismissively as he stopped for a moment to take a look at their data screens.

“Mallory.” The blond replied in kind, crossing his arms over his chest and quirking an eyebrow at him. “Will we be starting anytime soon or should I go take a nap?”

The team’s owner turned around to look at his pilot, furrowing his eyebrows, he didn’t seem at all pleased with James’ comment.

“Why don’t you go take a walk?”

The blond took a deep breath and shook his head, setting down his helmet on one of the benches by the side before he grabbed his green team cap, with his driver number, 07, embroidered on one side and England’s flag on the opposite. He complemented the look with a pair of dark shades to hide his electric blue eyes from the aggressive Mediterranean sun of Barcelona.

“Take a bloody walk…” He seethed as he left the team’s garage to take a walk around the amenities area, his hands shoved deeply inside his pockets.

“James!”

He heard an all too familiar voice call his name behind him and he stopped, turning around to take a look at the reporter that was quickly approaching him, followed by a large camera. James couldn’t help but sigh, knowing it was too late to run away now. It was the  very same reporter he had spent weeks upon weeks watching on television while he had been stuck at home. A young woman called Eve Moneypenny who seemed to be some sort of trailblazer when it came to automotive journalism. He had seen her a couple times in the previous year, but since he tended to avoid talking to any reporters, he had never encountered her face to face.

“James, it’s good to see you on the track once again. Many of us thought that wouldn’t happen again after the acc–”

He cut her off before she could even finish her sentence, looking away uncomfortably and nodding. “Yeah, I mean, it feels good to be back and… all that.”

“How does it feel to see your previous teammate race for another team after so many years together at Aston Martin?” She asked, tilting her head to the side slightly and pushing the microphone closer to Bond’s face while the blond simply stared at her, caught off-guard by her question.

“Pardon?”

“Trevelyan. I mean, what happened last year stirred up a lot of controversies and then him abandoning the team? I’m sure you have some strong feelings about this.”

James took a look around, suddenly realising how all the pieces fit together in the puzzle. Alec wasn’t running late, he wasn’t coming and no one had had the balls to tell him throughout the two hours he had spent waiting for the bastard.

“Yeah… yeah… I’ll uhm… sorry, I have to go. I’m running late”

Pushing past her and her cameraman, Bond hurried to make his way back to the Aston Martin garage where he found Mallory talking to R about a few adjustments they could make to the chassis to make it lighter and the car faster altogether.

“Why the fuck didn’t anyone tell me?” James snapped as soon as he stepped in, getting everyone’s attention. They all stopped what they were doing and looked at each other instead of answering, as if they were afraid of saying the wrong thing. “Stop with all those complicit looks! I want answers! Now!”

“Calm down, Bond.”

Mallory stepped forward, deciding that if someone was going to take control of that situation, it should be him. “This is exactly why we didn’t tell you.”

The blond raised his eyebrows in surprise, taking his aviators off and cocking his head to the side.

“We weren’t sure of how you would take it.”

“So letting me find out through the press was better?”

“Well, no. That wasn’t ideal. We honestly didn’t think they’d get to you so quickly.”

“Of–fucking–course not. You never think.” James huffed and shook his head, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. “Tell me one thing, is Q actually late or did he leave too?”

Mallory glanced at R and then looked down at the shiny black helmet that rested on the bench by his side. James grew impatient, but just as he was about to snap at them, the soft-spoken engineer decided to interject.

“He left with Alec.” She said, as softly and gently as she possibly could.

“What does that–”

“It means he’s with him now. He stole him from under our noses.” M interrupted, leaving James speechless and, even though it was hard to tell with that hard look on his face, heartbroken.

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary:
> 
> DRS: Short for Drag Reduction System  
> Adjustable rear wings that allow the driver to activate from the cockpit when in a per-determined area, known as the DRS Activation Zone. When combined with other systems in the car, boosts overtaking.
> 
> R&D: Short for Research and Development  
> Activities taken by the team to develop or improve a system or component.


End file.
